


No Dress Code: Fearless Sincerity

by GuileandGall



Series: No Dress Code [10]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Date Night, F/M, Inspired by Music, Rock Star
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 17:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13439271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: Furia and Eli’s whirlwind sexcapade began taking detours to meals and actual dates. Meeting Furia for dinner takes the pair of them on a stroll through the city to the tune of their playlists.





	No Dress Code: Fearless Sincerity

**Author's Note:**

> This was written with this playlist in mind (https://open.spotify.com/user/hunnybadgerv/playlist/6APpf6VA0XqQ8d69jzGav9). It was compiled from @bosselimitchell’s Eli’s Playlist tag and from a collection of songs that I’ve compiled for inspiration for Furia over the years. I chose ten from each and combined them at the above link. This piece is written to follow the playlist linked above.

**Fearless Sincerity [ _[PLAYLIST LINK](https://open.spotify.com/user/hunnybadgerv/playlist/6APpf6VA0XqQ8d69jzGav9)_ ]**

“When you fall in love, the natural thing to do is give yourself to it. That’s what I think. It’s just a form of sincerity.” — Haruki Murakami, _Norwegian Wood_

**1: Stray Cat Strut**

Eli slammed on the brakes of the Reaper, throwing it into park without an iota of consideration for the shocked faces of pedestrians and oblivious to the fact he’d jumped the curb. He pulled his leather jacket out of the backseat and slipped it on in fluid motion that captured a few glances. The first moment of attention he gave anyone else on the street was when he pushed his hand through his hair, giving a smirk and a wink to a woman who stared at him open-mouthed. He never thought it could be shock about his driving, no, certainly the awestruck gape of the tired, dishwater blond had to be inspired by the mere sight of him.

His swagger carried him up the block on airs supplied by his outstanding ego. The smirk remained, curving his mouth in a tantalizing display.

A bell tinkled when he pulled open the door of the diner. The 50s-style interior of the place made it feel quaint, like a Rockwell still from another era. Soledad, in her pencil skirt and heels, could have fit in perfectly except for her own leather jacket and that distinct aura of hers. No, he thought, eyeing her as he crossed the room, she could not be mistaken for one of those innocent girls huddled and giggling nor one of the pent-up housewives dining with boring men in shirt sleeves. He also knew the impression came from somewhere inside. It wasn’t the dip of her blouse or the sweep of her hair, which exposed the long column of her neck, nor could it be those ruby red lips alone. Whatever it was, she stood out, and not just here.

The first time he heard her call herself a hood rat, he’d been confused. Even knowing that if he searched the pockets of her leather jacket he’d find condoms, a Sharpie marker that hid a set of lock picks, and a switchblade she’d carried since high school he didn’t see anything that confirmed that self-identification. From the stilettos that she wore with an elegant ease to the silk stockings with seams that outlined the subtle curve of her calf, he saw a stunning woman. He could not see her that way, nor could he ever imagine her fading into any background.

Eli’s pace slowed and, like a big cat, he stalked toward her. Eli noticed the tap of her foot and the white wire dangling from her ear, but ignored both. When he pounced, his lips met the thin skin of her neck. She cringed at first—body tightening, her hands finding one of his on her waist. “Hey!” Once she identified her assailant, she relaxed, dropping her head toward her shoulder again to allow Eli free reign. “Well, hello to you, too.”

He didn’t offer a polite salutation in return, just a gentle suck that might leave a pink spot for a few minutes. Her melodic hum punctuated the gentle scrape of his teeth. The sound of it made him curious and he plucked the bud out of her ear to set it in his own. The song made him chuckle. His arms wrapped around her and he set his chin on her shoulder listening with a cocky grin. Their fingers tapped out the rhythm on one another’s limbs, and Furia shifted in his arms to press a kiss to the side of his chin.

“I got cat class,” Eli sang along quietly as the song moved toward its conclusion.

“And I got cat style,” Soledad said, speaking rather than singing the line.

“That you do.” He pressed a quick peck to her cheek then released her and collapsed onto the stool next to her. “So, what’s good here?”

A smile crept across her lips as Furia laughed. “I wouldn’t know. You picked this place, remember?”

“Ah, that’s right.” His hand slapped against the counter with the reminder, then he reached out and grabbed a menu. Flipping it over reminded him why he suggested the place—the extensive list of milkshakes and malts, more than 50 of them. Or so claimed the little ribbon at the top of the page. He’d only started to work his way through their selection.

“Best milkshakes in the city,” he said as he leaned toward her again.

Her laughter brightened, rising in volume. “Of course.”

He glanced at her and smiled, it had become an almost involuntary reaction around her. “What?”

“With you, it’s always about the sweets. The last place you chose had the best brownies in Stilwater.”

“It’s true, they are the best.”

“They were amazing, so I have no doubt,” she replied, closing some of the distance between them. Her hazel eyes sparkled in that familiar way as a fingertip teased along the collar of his T-shirt.

Eli took the bait, pressing his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. Her lips tasted of vanilla, though he saw no evidence of how that could be possible.

At their parting, she straightened and rolled her headphones around her hand before stowing them and her phone in her jacket pockets, then stole his menu. Eli debated stealing it back, but in the end, he grabbed another and perused the long list of ice cream delicacies. Furia, however, started reading the menu from the front, occasionally casting a coy glance his direction, which he noticed because his own gaze strayed to her often.

They’d known each other for a few months, maybe more Eli couldn’t exactly remember—three, he’d say if pressed. It exceeded his typical behavior. By reputation, Eli was a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. More to the truth, he just got bored easily. Furia, however, surprised him, almost as much as his continued interest in her. The sex thrilled him, then came the actual dates, which were a rare phenomenon for him. He didn’t know how this all happened in the first place, but it kept happening with her.

Moreover, he wanted it to keep happening. And it was more than just curiosity about why she had that effect on him, or the benefit of learning the ins and outs of Stilwater from a native of the city. While the answer to that mystery would materialize, eventually, he didn’t seek it out.

Dinner proceeded with a modicum of physical restraint with both deciding on juicy burgers and fresh-cut fries. He even kept his advances to a PG-13 rating. However, Eli did feel the need to sample a spoonful of her Mexican chocolate shake, and he offered a healthy sip of his caramel-drizzled chocolate blend in return. A glimpse of the hint of red lipstick on his straw tugged at the corners of his mouth, prompting him to slip his hand behind her neck to guide her mouth to his. A part of him wanted to mar the perfect field of crimson that always adorned her lips, or steal of bit of the color for himself. His inability to muss it fascinated and thwarted him every time, but that didn’t dampen the vigor of their kiss.

Her tongue retained a chill from the ice cream, the rich flavor of the chocolates, and the sweetness of her mouth quickened his pulse. Even her cold fingertips against his flushed neck went straight to his groin. He swallowed her reticent moan greedily, deepening the kiss.

One diner cleared his throat repeatedly, increasing the length and volume of his passive aggressive response to their display, until the pair of them finally parted. Resting his forehead against hers, Eli planted another soft peck on her lips just as the man coughed again.

“Oi, you should really get that checked out, guv,” Eli suggested, giving the man a serious look as he pulled away from Furia. “Sounds like it could be something serious.”

“And you should save that kind of behavior for someplace private. Someplace where people aren’t trying to enjoy a civilized meal.”

When Eli stood up, Furia quickly pulled a few bills out of her purse and laid them on the counter to cover their meal and a generous tip.

“Jealous?”

The man didn’t answer right off, instead glancing at his wife. “More like nauseated.”

“Guess that explains why that lovely lady you’re with looks so pent up.”

Furia’s soft snicker suggested she stifled a laugh as the couple’s faces shifted to shock, but his date did slip her arm around Eli’s. He didn’t follow her lead toward the door. No, he let his eyes wander over the brunette in the booth then leaned on the seat next to her date.

Staring the woman dead in the eye, his voice lowered just a bit and offered the man a bit of sound advice. “Instead of ordering the apple pie a la mode, you should have her for dessert. Might just crack that scowl.”

The woman’s cheeks burned red. He figured her date’s face might be even redder, but Eli left it at that, letting Furia finally pull him away from the couple’s table. After a few steps, Eli grabbed Furia’s hand and pulled it more tightly around his arm and escorted her out of the place.  They were a few strides from the door when the bell tinkled again. She looked behind them; Eli didn’t. There was no chance that grumpy square would come looking for a fight. When she laid her head against his shoulder, Furia confirmed that fact for him.

Biting her bottom lip, she looked upwards. “So, which one was your favorite?”

“Which what?”

“Shake?”

“That’s like asking if I have a favorite song, love,” Eli said with a laugh.

“You don’t have a favorite song?”

“It depends on the moment. But no. I have songs I always like, but never one, single favorite.” His free hand gesticulated as he spoke.

“Here, I was expecting you had a song that you thought captured your essence,” Furia replied, her fingers creeping over his palm to lace with his.

Eli glanced down at her and there was a seriousness in his tone as one brow curved upward. “Do you really think one could do it?”

 

**2: Occupy Your Mind**

Furia stared up at him for several steps, considering her answer carefully, then she smiled. “No, probably not.”

“Probably?” There was more than an ounce of incredulity in his tone.

“Do you think there’s one song that could define me?”

Eli stepped in front of her, halting her progress, then he guided her to the passenger side of his car where he pressed his body against hers. When the tip of his nose nudged hers, she clutched and tugged at his jacket with unspoken encouragement. This dance they both knew the steps to, even so it still made her pulse race. His breath teased her lips, and she couldn’t help wetting them with the anticipation that his deep stare would end in an even deeper kiss.

“Not from what I’ve seen,” he whispered against her mouth, his gaze still boring into hers. “No, you’re not the type of woman someone can put in a box.”

His mouth finally closed the whisper of distance. With another breath-stealing kiss, Furia released his jacket to run her hand up his chest to the back of his neck, dipping her fingers into his soft hair. The purr in his throat encouraged her further until she had a firm grip on his hair. Eventually, she pulled him away in order to catch her breath.

The lusty look in his aqua eyes paired with his fast breathing always got to her. She gave his vibrant hair another pull, making him hiss. The face he pulled shifted back; that predatory grin curved his lips in a familiar suggestion. A part of Furia wanted to be his prey—right then, right there. Onlookers be damned. But she’d insisted it be a real date, not veer off course like all the other ones, which ended early with sex in the back of his tail wagon or in some coat closet or detoured back to her apartment far too soon.

Eli Mitchell was something else. He surprised the hell out of her—a one-night stand that kept boomeranging back into her life. She didn’t know why. For a time, she expected every goodnight kiss to be the last. But for months now, there had been opportunities for more—instigated by both of them. She wanted to know what it was, if there was something more to it than amazing sex. If so, what was it? Furia couldn’t even say she knew what they were at the moment?

Her hand slipped out of his hair, nails scratching along his scalp then his neck. The growl that hung in his throat reverberated down her spine, sending a sparking tingle over her skin. To her surprise, Eli’s smile widened, going from salacious to devious.

He leaned closer, lips brushing her cheek before his mouth met her ear. “You know, I’ve heard you can learn a lot about a person by listening to their playlist.”

The words tickled the shell of her ear, making her shiver, as the suggestion made her wonder if he could read her mind.  “I bet.” She took another breath, stretching up on her toes to cast a breathy whisper of her own into his ear. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she challenged.

Eli pulled away, looking down at her like her reaction came out of nowhere. Then he nodded. “I always did like that game. Are we going to play doctor next?”

“We always play doctor. But this could be fun,” she surmised. The idea came out of nowhere but sounded like a safe chance at an actual date. “We can take a stroll through the city, listen to each other’s music. Get to know a little more about each other.”

Eli’s nose wrinkled. He hadn’t been keen on talking about his past. No, he mostly lived in the present, or so it seemed to her.

“So, what do you say? Sound good?” she asked.

“You’re on,” he replied, wearing that cocksure smile that got them both in over their heads.

 

**3: Walk the Plank**

Eli’s reaction made her head spin. After opening the car door for her, his actions moved at a nauseating pace. He wove through the streets with only a modicum of consideration for the remnants of the evening traffic, which Furia was becoming used to. When he took a corner just that much too fast, causing her to side across the bench seat of his car, she didn’t retreat. Eli draped his arm around her to keep her there. His driving seemed to even out a little—very little, but almost perceptibly.

Furia cuddled against him in that embrace, trying not to instigate too much, though keeping her hands to herself always proved difficult around Eli. One hand seemed to have a mind of its own—her fingers drew small circles over his inner thigh. Her actions managed to draw a dark growl from the back of his throat, which led to a consuming kiss that outstripped the stop light.

To a chorus of horns, Eli flashed a one-fingered salute at the impatient drivers. A few blocks later, the tires squealed against asphalt again when he swung massive vehicle into a parking lot and slammed on the brakes. Rather than take his arm from around her shoulders he reached around the big steering wheel to shift the car into park. In a heartbeat that hand was on her cheek, a swift prelude to his mouth crashing against hers. Before she could even settle into the kiss, it was over, and he was pulling her out of the car with him.

Eli could shift on a dime, which could be at least as infuriating as it was fascinating. Furia stumbled once or twice trying to keep up with his long-legged, purposeful stride as they crossed the parking lot. He yanked open a heavy wooden door for her. A chime rang through the record store, as he did, though it was only barely audible over the quick-paced beat of a song she didn’t know or recognize from the radio.

Without letting go of her hand for an instant, Eli steered through the aisles with the determination of a man on a mission.

“Can I help ya, buddy?”

“No, I know what I’m looking for,” Eli replied finally stopping near a wall covered in pegs that displayed a myriad of wires and cords and such.

Furia’s eyes moved over the seemingly endless selection there; she didn’t notice Eli pluck something off one of the hooks halfway up the wall.

“This will do quite nicely,” he said to no one in particular.

But when he started for the register, she stumbled once again. He seemed more aware of it this time. An arm swept around her waist, pulling her body flush against his side. When her gaze rose, it met his fascinating eyes. At one moment, their shade could be a bright and twinkling aqua that shone or it could cloud over like a stormy sea. At that moment, they were somewhere in between. Furia didn’t know how to read that yet.

“Sorry about that, love,” he said. His pace had shifted, adjusting to her stride. “All better?” His lips pressed against her temple, lingering for a moment.

That kiss shocked her more than any other they’d exchanged that night. The hot, heavy, breathtaking kisses were expected, that one was not. Furia shook off her shock, as her hand passed over his back and came to rest at his waist, where she hooked her thumb just under his belt.

He tossed the box onto the counter then dipped his free hand into his jeans’ pocket.

“Need a bag for that?” the middle-aged clerk asked.

“Nah,” Eli shook his head. “Got plans for that.”

As quickly as they entered the shop, they were gone. Once out of the store, he released her to tear open the box.

“What is that?”

“A splitter,” he answered.

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

“This will.” With one hand, he opened her jacket and the other dipped into her pocket, grazing her breast along the way. She chuckled at him in an effort to disguise the excitement igniting below her skin. He plucked her headphones out of her pocket, giving her a little pinch as his hand withdrew. Apparently, her attempt to veil his effect on her failed entirely.

He plugged her headphone jack in first, then scoured his pockets for his own, finally finding them in his jacket rather than his jeans. He pulled them free of his own MP3 player.

Once she saw what he was doing, she realized what it was for and felt a bit foolish that she hadn’t guessed sooner. She stared up at him for a moment, surprised that he was seriously playing along with her spur of the moment idea. She thought they would just trade music players.

 

**4: Wrecking Crew**

“Wot?” he asked, noticing the way she was looking at him. “Figured this would be easier than trying to share one pair of headphones.”

Furia just smiled at him, nodding. It wasn’t one of the smiles he knew—not the happy to see him one, or the sultry one that usually led to sex, or the teasing, playful one. This one was something else entirely. He curled his finger under her chin and kissed her quickly, then tucked his headphones in his ear.

“I mean you’re so short I’d get a crick in my neck by the second song,” he added.

That unknown smile dropped into a clear look of shock. “Bastard,” she gasped, jabbing him in the ribs.

Laughing as he rubbed at the infraction, his thumb moved the dial on his music player to his personal playlist. “Actually, my mother knew who my father was.”

Furia rolled her glittering hazel eyes at him. “We could have just traded.”

“But then we’d be listening to different music. Part of the fun is listening together.”

There was something about the way he said it. The sentiment struck her in a way she couldn’t really define. The idea of giving him her playlist to listen to and judge had been one thing, but to listen to it together … Furia didn’t really know what to think about the idea, except that she was totally down for this, maybe. For a second, she worried that Eli would abhor her taste in music, it felt so different than what he usually chose on the radio or the stuff that Pirate Hole played. Thankfully the worry, didn’t have time to take root.

“Just remember, you asked for this,” he warned and pressed the play button.

A moment later, she jerked backward, pulling the buds out of her ears. “Can you turn it down? Just a hair?”

Grinning at her, he shook his head from side to side and gestured for her to put them back in. Giving him a playful pout, she did, and he barely nudged the volume down a stitch. He watched her for a sec as she smiled with bright laughter; then he held out his hand. Furia’s fingertips danced over his palm, soft and smooth. Her hands were smaller than his, but they weren’t so tiny as to feel strange. And he found they were usually warm, like now.

Ever impatient, Eli clasped her hand and started back toward his car with every intention to move this date to her place. Before they reached it though, Furia stopped, tugging at his hand. When he slowed, he pointed toward the car and opened his mouth to say something. Hearing his own voice loud in his head with the music he knew she wouldn’t hear him. He took a silent step in the direction of the Reaper, still looking at her. She shook her head and pointed toward the street.

“Let’s walk.” He read the words on her ruby lips rather than hearing them. Inching away at first, she tugged him toward the street that would lead them further into Cecil Park. “It’ll be fun. Come on, Eli.”

By the look on her face and the movement of her mouth, he figured she was using that sexy, pleading voice of hers. The one with the hint of a purr that made him want to do precisely the opposite of what she was asking if only so her voice would go huskier. It took another few steps away from his Reaper before he gave in completely and followed her.

 

**5: A Dios Le Pido**

Eli didn’t know the neighborhood, save for that record shop. Though he was pretty sure he’d played at a bar a few blocks west and thought there was a restaurant around here somewhere that Furia had taken him to a few weeks back. So, he followed her lead, and it was a bit of a surprise when they turned a corner to find what he could only classify as a bazaar. Twinkling lights in a rainbow of colors sparkled on strands strung overhead. Small shops propped open their doors with tables displaying bright cloth and odd baubles of all sizes. The humid air was heavy with spices from the food stalls squeezed between some of the tables, and the food trucks blocking alleys to ply their wares.

When his playlist paused unexpectedly, it only took a quick glance to discover why. Furia, phone in hand, plugged the splitter it into her device. The tune that began a moment later blended into the muffled snippet he’d heard in the quiet of the changeover and it captured the feeling of the dynamic Barrio neighborhood. People laughed, talked, and danced in the street—he wondered how he could have overlooked something as lively as this.

Whether it was the beat of the music or the feeling in the street, the way Furia walked changed. With her phone held lightly in one hand, her other hand swung with his. She wasn’t walking anymore, no, she was dancing. Her steps staggering and her body shifting along with them.

Eli shortened his steps in an effort to match her pace, though they lacked her rhythm. Then she spun and faced him. Eli’s mouth curled slightly. A rapt audience, he stared at the movement of her hips, paying special attention to how every step, each movement of her lithe body met the beat and exuded the feeling of the song, even if he didn’t understand one word that came out of the singer’s mouth. Then his gaze rose to her face. Her smile made the golden flecks in her hazel eyes sparkle in the lights. She spun herself under his arm once then back again to untangle herself from the cords, the movement seamless and fluid move.

As the crowd thickened, the distance between them shrank to nothing and her body moved against his, her eyes tracing his form before rising to meet his gaze again. The heat there was familiar, and as enticing as the feel of her body shimmying against his.

Before he could get his arms around her, Furia’d stepped, or rather danced back to arm’s length. This time she let go, shimmying away from him to escape the throng of people. Though her pace was nothing he couldn’t catch up to in a stride, he still didn’t let her escape too far.

Eli followed her path through the people. Led by their musical umbilical, it didn’t take much to catch up to her. Again, he pressed his body against hers, his hands resting on her rhythmically swishing hips. Eli moved with her, though with far less drama; this wasn’t his style of dance, or music for that matter. However, Soledad was his style.

Turning her head, she glanced back up at him. She was bathed in the neon glow of a huge purple hand which accented her features. Eli’s hands moved to circle her waist as the song slowed to a quick end, which also brought her performance to an abrupt end.

 

**6: Bust Your Windows**

Her eyes remained on his as he bent toward her. Before he could kiss her though, Furia turned her head, leaning back against his chest. Her shoulders and hips shifted against him with the new beat. A moment later, she slipped out of his grip with a hint of smugness in her strut. The lights and excitement faded behind them as they continued their walk.

If the way Eli looked at her was any measure, she thought he might have enjoyed the last song a little too much. Though she couldn’t blame him. She loved that song, and could never resist dancing when it came on. Though she struggled to resist dancing to most music.

Her own reaction to these songs were ingrained in her, like instinct. From the sharper steps, she took along with the beat to the smooth sway of her hip, Furia couldn’t help it. Eli’s slower pace, showed that he noticed it, too. Furia turned her head sharply and glanced at him over her shoulder, dipping her chin and flashing him a grin.

When he caught up to her again, she was pleased he took her up on the invitation. His hand smoothed down her back then over her rear. Then he detoured her, stepping into her path and pulling her against him with a squeeze. She had expected him to kiss her, but instead he loomed, just staring at her.

Neither of them moved for several bars. Furia broke first, without a stitch of remorse, she said, “Kiss me,” knowing she was the only one who would hear her voice. The words echoed in her head in that strange way that only happened with headphones on.

Eli didn’t move an inch.

“Or I’ll bust the windows out your car,” she mouthed along with the song.

That earned her prize. His mouth was firm, his kiss hot as he pulled her tight against him, both hands on her ass. Her hands weren’t so stoic, moving from his chest to his neck, into his hair and along his jaw. She would have given in to his every advance right then and there, if he only pushed.

 

**7: Cheer Up London**

The lack of another song went unnoticed at first. His growl joined her wanton moan, breaking through the supposed noise suppression of her ear buds. Once Eli broke the kiss, he plugged the splitter back into his device with a husky laugh at his successful thievery. A moment later a similar sound filled her ears.  She grinned up at him, unable to resist a chuckle of her own.

The lyrics intensified her laughter, and splashed a needed bit of cool water on the sultry mood that cropped up between them. Planting a peck on his chin, her hand moved to his wrist, encouraging his hand into hers. Furia pulled him away from the car they’d landed against while making out and started down the street. 

A pair of soccer moms on their evening power walk eyed the pair of them, then crossed the street in the middle of the block. Apparently, they’d had a disapproving audience; Furia didn’t mind. And she was certain Eli didn’t; he confirmed it by pulling her tight against his side.

Every word of the song seemed perfect for this neighborhood of cookie cutter houses with SUVs and sedans in the driveways. There was something almost familiar about it, which made it intensely uncomfortable.

Furia could see the attraction to this song. From the accent of the singer to the words, it really did remind her of Eli, or his outlook more specifically.

There was nothing hum-drum about him. He knew there was more for him and he went after it with both barrels. One thing she figured out fast was that Eli was not a nine-to-fiver, he didn’t like to be bored or static. She could not see him in a suit and tie with a briefcase, sitting through a morning and evening commute. No, he was on a whole different track.

Her head bobbed with the chorus as they continued around the block. “You’re dead already, dead dead already, ready …” Furia slipped her arm around his waist as a bus brimming with riders blew past them, like a massive mobile coffin. With every bar, the song got her thinking about things long and far beyond that street and that moment. It sobered her nearly completely.

 

**8: The Devil’s Chasing Me**

The sound of metal scraping across concrete tore through the music thrumming in their ears. Two waiters, still wearing their red aprons, pulled tables and chairs toward the building. Eli noticed that each set of chairs was chained to the table, which prompted a laugh. It deepened when he watched them thread a thicker chain between the wrought iron design of each piece of furniture and lock them to a cement pole.

It seemed strange, but from what he’d seen of Stilwater since he showed up in the city, it also made perfect sense. People here would run off with anything that wasn’t chained down.

Her fingers beat out the rhythm line on his hip as they wandered through the streets with no clear path or destination. This neighborhood was dominated by the glare of a neon cowboy and had an entirely different feel than the one a few blocks back. The door of the El Hombre Bar opened with a slam and several middle-aged men in matching overalls stumbled onto the sidewalk, then across the street toward a truck that looked like it wouldn’t even start.

In fact, most of the cars lining the street were missing hubcaps and looked like they were on their last legs. A few, however, looked brand-spanking-new. Sneakers hung from every other power cable and up the block he could see a congregation of toughs lingering together near a corner. When Furia steered them down a side street, he wondered if they might be the reason.

Giving her shoulder a squeeze, he lost himself in the music and the feeling of her in his embrace. This street grew even darker than the last. No windows glowed, though cracks of light peeked from behind fluttering curtains. He wondered if it was really as quiet as it appeared.

If the blokes on that other corner were any indication, the calm was likely a mere illusion. There was probably a myriad of demons on these streets. Stilwater had no shortage of them, from what he’d learned. The dark solitude of this neighborhood got Eli’s hackles up. His eyes scanned the shadows for signs of a devil or two.

 

**9: Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked / Raise Hell**

That guitar riff faded out and after a moment moved into another. This one less familiar, with a glance down he realized the squeeze she’d given him was not a cuddle. Furia’d jacked his jack again. But that smile she offered was sweet enough to let it go.

Her shoulder moved against him in time with the song as they turned another corner seemingly on a whim. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he realized her meandering path actually had a destination in mind. Staring at the statue, he cocked his head. It was either a pair of concrete finger guns or they really wanted to draw people’s attention to the view of the freeway.

His brow furrowed as Furia jabbed him in the side. She pulled him forward into the grass, trying to coax him to dance. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet. With her arms draped around him, Eli did add a sway or two, and a spin before he dropped her back onto her own two feet.

Giggling, she prodded him in the ribs and started down the street with another little shimmy. He chuckled quietly as he noticed the subtle movements shift through her; it was more obvious with her own tunes. Perhaps it was familiarity, but she even pranced when his playlist blasted in her ears.

In her own way, Soledad personified music. She didn’t just listen; she felt it. Then translated each beat through her own body from the drum of her fingertips and the bob of her head to the sultry dance she’d performed earlier. Watching her, Eli’s reaction to every beat—which was marked by the subtle shifts in her shoulder and pops of her hips—intensified.

He felt music, or thought he did, but seeing it translated her way made him want to experience it with the kind of fervor she did.

When she released him, he mourned the loss a moment. Until he watched pull her hair up and strut off, walking backwards for a few steps. Eli followed, curious to see where this song might lead her. Up the block, a giant neon chile pepper caught his eye, making him grin. _El Fuego_ , that was the place they’d been weeks earlier. The red haze of the sign lit up half the block. As they stepped into the pool of light, Furia’s dance led her right back into his embrace.

When she moved to wrap her arms around his waist, he plucked her phone out of her hand. Furia gave him a scandalized look that eased up when he pecked her on the tip of the nose. Her shoulders popped, sending a rush through them both. His free hand snaked into her hair, at the top of her neck. Making a fist, he pulled firmly. The shiver that reverberated against him didn’t match the beat. He dove for her parted lips, teasing her with a mere peck.

She thrust her bottom lip out at him, narrowing her eyes and stuffing her phone back into her pocket, after he returned it.

 

**10: It Happens Every Night**

Trading the splitter again, he draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close with a laugh. If her little tour of Stilwater was meant to acquaint him with the neighborhoods, it failed. He had no idea where they were, let alone how he might relocate his car. Of course, he could think of worse things than being lost with her.

This part of the city was full of color, even in the dim moonlight. The bright neon signs painted the streets in a wash of color that carried onto the facades of buildings. Even the larger brick structures bore vivid displays, like the one up the block with a festive skull in what could have been purple, or perhaps blue; he couldn’t really be sure in the feint light.

Stopping beneath a street lamp, Eli grabbed Furia’s hand and spun her. There was a momentary look of surprise in her wide eyes, until she landed against his chest. Her laughter vibrated through him and made her eyes sparkle in the flickering street lamp. Then he gave her a little push and she twirled the opposite direction, black waves corkscrewed around her shoulders as she untwisted herself from the wires. When she stopped, Eli pulled her hand through the crook in his arm. After an adorable prance, she leaned her head against his shoulder. He could feel her giggling as she clung to his arm.

The calm of their stroll broke with a series of gunshots, which rang out above the music flooding their ears.

Furia startled, turning to look behind them, then back up the street. Eli mimicked it, not noticing anything out of place. When he looked back at Furia, he noticed the caramel square in her hand made a grab for it. She dodged away, but he grabbed her jacket to keep her from escaping. Spinning to her right, Furia broke away, kind of. Eli snatched at her empty hand when she ducked into an alley.

In two long strides, Eli caught up to her, pulling her back toward him. Furia’s screeching laughter broke through the din of the music. As he grabbed her wrist, her arm stretched behind her, trying to keep the caramel out of reach, like a child might.

Giving her side a tickle, her arm jutted back toward her side. Eli took full advantage of it, grabbing again. Furia’s hand shot toward her mouth. He grabbed her wrist just as she took a bite. Still laughing, she offered him the other half. Still holding her wrist, he stared at her as he did just that. Doing one better, he sucked the barest trace of sugar off her thumb. Her head dropped back in glee for a moment before she gave him a little push. Eli’s grip on her wrist remained and he pulled her with him.

 

**11:  Skin on Skin**

Furia landed against him roughly as his back hit the alley wall. Even if he couldn’t hear her laughter, he could see it in her face and feel it against his chest. The sensation seemed exaggerated given that guitar riffs and rhythms flooded his hearing. His other hand slid over her hip and he smirked as he pressed a kiss to her index finger.

He watched the shift in her face; her eyes still twinkled with mirth but her mouth softened. Shallow breaths rose between them, escaping parted ruby lips as he gave the pad of her finger a gentle suck. She stared at him, giddiness giving over to something just as enticing. He guided her hand to his neck, allowing him to make up the distance between them. When he let her wrist go, his hand brushed her cheek, past her jaw. Burying his fingers in her ebony hair, he cradled her head.

Their kiss deepened as her chin tipped upward, his tongue thrusting past her tempting lips. Her mouth still carried the creamy taste of vanilla from the caramel; she tasted as sweet as she always smelled.

Following his lead, she pushed him against the wall. Her body slid against his as she stretched on her toes in an attempt to tease his lips with her teeth. Her nails on his scalp felt sharper when her fingers teased through his hair. Incited, Eli spun her like he had in those little dances, shifting their positions. His palm flattened against the cool brick beside her as his body melded to hers. Dipping his tongue back into her mouth, he kissed her until the ache in his chest forced him to breathe. Without being able to hear her reaction, he was at some disadvantage, or rather maybe the deprivation was hers.

While that pencil skirt of hers thwarted his attempts to directly rile her, the rock of his hips worked to ample personal effect. The hand cradling her head circled her long neck to make up for his situational deafness. Her pleased hum reverberated beneath the web between his thumb and forefinger. Feeling her reaction proved nearly as enticing as hearing it.

It prompted an impromptu erotic experiment. Pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers and let his other hand wander over her breast. She arched into the teasing touch; her mouth rounding with near perfection. Her throat reverberated with what he assumed to be a moan. Her eyes widened and her throat twitched when he pinched her nipple. A gasp, perhaps.

Diving for her mouth again, he kept his hands in place, kneading her breast until the faint sound of a zipper filled both of his ears.

Then the music stopped, completely.

Opening his eyes and breaking the kiss, Eli found Furia’d pulled the plug, literally.

 

**12: Ain’t No Angel**

Her breath came heavily as she leaned there against the brick wall of the alley. Eli had a special knack for igniting a blaze under her skin, but private as the alley may be, she had no intention of going all the way at the back door of a dime store. “We should head back, don’t you think?”

“I rather think we’re doing just fine where we are,” Eli replied in that thick purr of his that made her tingle.

“Except for the gunshots and …” With a screech and the crash of a garbage can, a pair of cats tore ass up the alleyway. She took another deep breath and removed his hand from her neck, pressing a kiss against his palm. “This isn’t really the time or place for a quickie. Trust me.”

“I’ll protect you,” he replied. That smirk curved upward and he moved toward her again.

“I have no doubt.” Her hand pressed against his chest, just below his collarbone. “But I’m not having sex in an alley.”

Eli exhaled gruffly, shoulders dropping with a huff. “Should we head back to the car?”

Clear disappointment resounded in his tone, but she appreciated him relenting. There were a thousand places she’d happily have let his advances continue. Instead, she pecked his lips and took his hand, pulling him down the length of the alley. A few hundred feet and one street sign later, Furia regained her bearings. They were only a few blocks from her place, and more than twenty from his purple hearse.

She turned and pressed her hands up his chest. With a gentle smile, she made her suggestion. “How about we go to my place? I’ll drive you back to your car in the morning.”

Eli put on that kittenish look of his and nuzzled her neck. “And pancakes for breakfast?”

“Maybe,” she giggled, ducking away from his convincing lips. Her hands helped detour him further until she could catch his gaze. “Do you have more songs?”

“A couple.”

“Play me another,” she suggested, punctuating her request with a soft kiss.

He pulled the device out of his pocket and stole the noise of the city again with the press of a button, trading it for something more lively.

 

**13: One Finger and a Fist / He’s a Rebel**

The opening of the song made Furia smile. Yet another song that seemed to capture a piece of him dead on, so much so that all she could do was chuckle. More than once in the few months she’d known Eli, he’d shown up on her doorstep bruised and bloody with cut up knuckles.

She chuckled and looked up at him as the chorus repeated.

“Wot?” Eli asked. Though she only read it on his lips, her brain tricked her into hearing it his voice.

“Not a lot of subtext in this one.”

He wrinkled his nose at her, but the face he pulled easily became a smile when she slipped her arm around him. Her thumb snuck under the hem of his shirt just enough to graze softly against the skin of his hip as they crossed the street toward the artsy park in the center of the Encanto district.

It was almost empty, though there were some people milling about. An older couple sat on a bench beneath a tree. A small family with three kids were huddled around the fountain, making wishes as they tossed coins into the water. Furia and Eli took a shortcut across the park.

Though she’d never heard it before, the song felt almost predictable, which seemed to be something Eli might do anything to not be. She wondered if his aversion to predictability might make him a little more so. She just listened as they walked, tapping her hand against his hip.

Just as the thought passed through her head, the next song started, and from the first bars, confusion contorted her face. She stopped, hands dropping to her sides as she looked up at Eli. He grabbed her hand, winked at her, then kissed the knuckle of her index finger and continued walking, eventually pulling her along with him.

It took a moment for her to respond, but she caught up and hopped in front of him.

This song she knew.

Shaking her finger in time to the music, she sang along in the safety of knowing he couldn’t hear her. During her impromptu performance, the lyrics stood out in her head.

The story of The Crystals tune sounded like the one she stood smack dab in the middle of. Her friends that knew about Eli said it wouldn’t lead anywhere, well, except maybe to a case of something she’d need penicillin for. Furia ignored them, and not just because she used protection.

Sure, he definitely fit the stereotype of a rebel down to the leather jacket and being a musician, but there was more behind the smirk and swagger. She didn’t know what, yet, but she had seen traces of more in those looks she didn’t know how to read and in those unexpected moments when he confided in her.

When she sang, “But just because he doesn’t do what everybody else does, that’s no reason why I can’t give him all my love,” Eli interrupted her solo—his arms wrapping around her. With soft kisses, he urged her to stop singing and continue their walk with slow steps. Eventually relenting, Furia slipped out of his grip, if only to make their locomotion less labored, though she still stared at him.

It was an unexpected song, to be sure.

 

**14: Inside Yourself / A Little Wicked**

Eli wasn’t sure why Furia stared at him, but he liked the subtle curve of her smile. Like she had a secret. One he wanted to know. Her hands moved slowly as she snatched the jack from him and plugged it into her phone again. She pressed a few buttons to get to the song.

He almost reminded her that was cheating, but let it go. If she wanted him to hear a particular song, he wouldn’t argue the point.

It was a song he’d heard before, but never really listened to. The lyrics wove with the music in a way that made them stand out clearly, and the words made him wonder. He stared at the street, brow furrowed, as he concentrated. With the word _worthless_ , he found himself looking down at her. It was first time he could recall her not looking him right in the face. When he squeezed her hand, that changed.

Once her eyes were on him, she didn’t look away either. The glee and playfulness were replaced by something else. Something he hadn’t seen in her eyes before. He picked up her hand and pressed another kiss to it. A question about the reason behind that song being on her playlist played through his head. His question didn’t have the chance to reach his lips before the tune changed.

The curiosity remained, following the mysterious movement of the music. This was yet one more song that changed with translation through her body. Still watching her when the song changed, Eli was entirely aware of the way the pace of the second song affected her walk. Even standing beside her, he was aware of the pop of her hips. Her body oozed that intriguing air of confidence and defiance that he liked to see in her, though the defiant side proved more elusive most of the time.

With an upward glance, their surroundings seemed familiar. He thought he recognized the blinking arrows above the corner store with its banner advertising _Fresh Tortillas_. A guy in a neon green coat tracked their progress down the street. Eli’s attention returned to Furia, when she let go of his hand. She’d stopped at her steps and veered off.

He followed, listening to the song move toward its conclusion with the words, “No one calls you Honey, when you’re sitting on a throne.” He couldn’t help but grin. He couldn’t recall ever hearing anyone call her anything like that.

It piqued his insatiable curiosity. She’d told him there was more to her than mixing drinks and waiting tables, but she hadn’t told him precisely what. Of course, he didn’t ask. What she did for a living didn’t matter in the long run. All he needed to know was that it was his name on her lips when they were together. At least, it had been all that mattered until that moment.

This song intrigued him. As she unlocked the door of her building, Eli set his lips against the shell of her ear. Even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him, he purred, “I’d like to see the wicked bits of you, love.”

 

**15: Alpha Female / Ponytail**

Pushing the door open, the pair stepped into the foyer of her building. The entryway and the stairs were covered in a maroon, floral carpeting. Even without the wear and tear, it was atrocious and the white walls and accents made it seem more out of place. The area was barren except for one small table near the mailboxes.

As the door clacked closed behind them, Furia turned and dramatically pulled the cord from her phone. Her body pressed against his as she rummaged through his pockets. For a moment, he wished he’d dropped his music player in his jeans. Cupping her cheeks, he held her face and stared into her eyes. She didn’t shy away from his gaze, didn’t look away in an effort to appear coy. No, she never shied away from him. Just bit her lip and dared him to take her.

And he did.

Every time.

As he kissed her, one of her hands slipped around his waist and dipped beneath his T-shirt. Her warm palm at the small of his back encouraged him to deepen their kiss. That hand moved upwards, digging into his skin deliciously as he sucked at her bottom lip. When he gave it a final nip, she gave him a scratch that made him hiss.

Still in his embrace, Furia looked up at him, sucking at the lip he’d been toying with. When she said, “Come on,” he heard her voice past the volume of the music. Trick of his head or not, he gave in to that sultry purr after stealing another kiss.

Her hand moved along his arm. Freeing her face from his hands, she turned and started up the stairs. Eli trailed behind her a step or two. Her hips swished with a bit more drama when she climbed stairs. And for five fights, he played her willingly captive audience, walking right behind her.

The scratched up white door with peeling paint and crooked numbers looked like the finish line to a marathon, and he viewed it with as much relief. Beyond that threshold, he knew, there would be no pause button. No full stop because of alley cats or gunshots. He could stroke and caress every inch of her without one iota of consideration to the rest of the world.

 

**16: I Wanna Be Adored**

When she reached for the door, Furia wasn’t surprised to feel Eli’s firm chest flush against her back. His tattooed hand swept the hair away from her neck. A shiver ran through her as his teeth grazed her jugular before she even started searching her pockets for her keys. Eli’s arms moved around her body, locking her in his embrace, and she couldn’t help but play into the distraction.

Her fingers laced with his, pulling his arms tighter around her while she rested her head against him. Her sigh echoed in her own ears, beneath the music as the strong arm crossing her hips pulled her more tightly against him.

The words in her ears didn’t surprise her in the least. Watch Eli on stage once and anyone could guess he wanted to be adored; on the flip side, being the subject of his particular brand of adoration could be just as addictive.

He didn’t rush her to get the door open. But she knew that, despite the way his hips ground against hers, this would only go so far in the hall outside her small apartment. Her hands left his, with great reluctance, and searched her pockets.

The absence of her hands didn’t discourage him in the least. More than once her search paused to savor the sensation of his fingertips teasing over sneakily bared flesh or the pleasurable pain of his teeth toying with the tender flesh of her neck.

 _Always in the last place you look_ , she thought for a moment once she located her key ring. A short fight ensued with the old locks bent on keeping her at bay.

 

**17: Break Into Your Heart**

After a bit of a battle with the ancient deadbolt that always seemed to stick at the most inopportune times, Furia pushed open the door to her tiny flat. That description was purely relative. Her modest three rooms, including the bathroom, were palatial compared to the closet Eli rented Downtown.

Though the music didn’t feel quite so confident as Eli, the previous song didn’t surprise her in the least. It was followed by a song that started with an odd promise. For a moment, she wondered if that’s what he was doing to her. Was that the reason she actually put his number in her phone rather than just tossing the cocktail napkin he’d scrawled it on? Was it why she said yes when he suggested dinner or breakfast? Was it why she knew she would say yes again if he brought up seeing one another again after tonight?

Sometimes it felt like he’d already crawled under her skin. When she was alone, there were times she could close her eyes and feel his calloused fingertips on her body, taste the tang of his sweat on her tongue, feel the crushing pressure of his mouth on hers, making her lips tingle—just like the way he kissed her when he kicked her door closed with his boot.

Dropping her keys, she shed her jacket without breaking too much contact with his body. Her hands pushed up Eli’s chest, pressing his leather jacket over his shoulders. He managed to work it off without dislodging their headphones, or slowing their shuffle across her living room.

Breaking into her heart though—even as she drank deep from his kisses and moaned in response to the way his hands moved over her body—surely, she was safe from all that. This was just lust, pure and simple, mind-blowing sex. _Right?_

They reached the bed before she expected and she nearly tripped, but Eli held her tight and followed her down. The weight of his body covered hers. Music pulsed through her head while his lips burned a trail down her neck. The small fire that crackled between them all night roared to a consuming blaze just as the music slowed and faded.

Eli leaned over her, his aqua gaze finding hers and the lyrics became all too clear in the softer instrumentation. “I’m gonna break into your heart. And follow till I get under your skin. And the wall comes tumbling down. And you finally let me in. I’ll break into your heart.”


End file.
